


To everything there is a season...

by perryvic



Category: The People - Zenna Henderson
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:32:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by the line in "Shadow on the Moon",  describing how one of the People had been on the planes involved in the bombing of Hiroshima and the impact of it.</p></blockquote>





	To everything there is a season...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raspberryhunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberryhunter/gifts).



As everyone gathered around, Valancy smiled at the group of the People, replete with the holiday foods and the goodwill of the season who had made it back to Cougar Canyon. They had adopted the holiday season as their Festival as well as it made a great deal of sense to express their own form of Thanksgiving while at the same time as their neighbours and everyone who could had crammed into the school house, chatting and talking with animated expressions. More and more of the People, especially the younger generation had started to move outwards, tentatively into the world around them but they all came back to Cougar Canyon at this time of year. She clear her throat, mentally as well as literally and the room hushed. It was strange having the role of Old One - she didn't feel old. Heads bowed around the room, stilled into solemn silence as she said, "We are met together in Thy Name" and fingers traced the Sign almost unconsciously in response. The chatting had subsided as she looked up and around the room. 

“I am glad so many of you have made it to this Thanksgiving and our own Gathering. As it has become our new tradition, we will Assemble the important happenings of the past year and record them independently. This year we have a particularly important event to recall as you might have deduced from the presence of our visitor. Jemmy?”

“Davey's gadget is all ready,” he said grinned as everyone settled down into comfortable listening positions, their faces alight with curiosity 

Valancy nodded. “Then I shall nominate Shado- sorry, Bethie dear, habit - and her friend to start. This is a story we have long awaited and it is important for everyone to hear."

The young woman looked up from where she was holding the hand of a dark haired young man that many of the People were regarding with outright curiosity. Little Emily wriggled free of her mother Karen, and practically latched onto his leg, responding to the evident anxiety and sadness in his expression. 

“Doan worry,” she said looking up at him. “I’ve saved you some of my turkey and the pie. That might make you happy again.” There was a faint ripple of laughter at that declaration and the stranger smiled faintly giving her a hug. 

“Might take a little more than that sweetie,” he said gently. “But I’m working on it and thank you for the offer. You probably might not want to hear my part of the story but you can listen to the start. I’ll let Bethie start.” 

“I thought you might,” she said in a soft voice, so like her mother's shy retiring nature although she was a far cry from the gangly teenager of seven years before. “I suppose it makes sense to pair the most joy with the most pain. Following our tradition, I will give this the title from something my Mother said to me - “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” We need to remember what happened, and the legacy that it left behind and that difficult decisions are made in a moment in time with their own unique perspective.” 

Bethie cleared her throat and looked into the eyes of the man next to her who smiled tentatively back at her and nodded. She took a deep breath and began. “First then... a time for joy...”

* * *

As Remy told me, there comes a time when even Shadows get restless. We used to laugh about it on those wild autumn nights where the wind would platt its own cloud twishers in intricate shadows over the surface of the moon and we would sneak out to feel the wind swirling around the top of Old Baldy. Remy would howl like a desert coyote until there were answering howls and I would shush him in worry that one of the Old Ones would hear. It was many years later that I realised that the answering howls were generally more of the People sneaking out to do the same thing – even some of the Old Ones themselves - rather than actual coyotes. There is something irresistible about a frosty clear night, wild with scudding clouds that brings out the reckless fun seeker in all of us. 

Eventually though, after Remy found his own Gift, and the Decision, where some of the People stayed and some went across the stars, things couldn’t be the same again and I think somehow I knew that more keenly than some of the others. I was surprised and relieved that Remy hadn’t gone for all his space-fever as Father described it. He had become more interested in developing his gadgets and machines and none of the Old Ones had managed to find a Gift exactly like his ability to visualise diagrams and Sense the rightness of fit in the Memories of Before much to his slightly smug pleasure. He had settled more in his own skin, and he needed his sounding board and little sister Shadow less and less. It was bittersweet feeling. Not so much growing apart, Father said, as growing up. It didn't make it any easier for me being the one being left behind as he surged forward.

We’d Gathered together on Decision day in the far reaches of the Canyon where the ship from New Home had landed. It was a day of joy and tears, of hugs and strange feelings and new beginnings. Our family stayed- Earth blood, wanting Earth mud, Remy annouced smiling with a hint of pride - so our partings were bittersweet farewells to friends and wishing them well - there were those I would miss greatly, but there were no grand drama’s of love and loss to play out for our household. He was right, there is something of Earth in us and thinking of leaving felt a lot like uprooting a healthy plant for no good reason.

As I watched the ship from New Home take off it was if something had loosened inside of me. Or perhaps it was around me as hopeful determination filled the air, bright in my Sensing. Those who had stayed had made a decision to be of this world, this Earth and they were filled with a renewed vigor to be a part of it. The sky looked bluer somehow, the yellow sunlight lying comforting and warm on my skin as if thanking me for staying, and the colours of the sunsets seemed to congratulate us on choosing the road less travelled and promised a destination somehow more amazing than one across a gulf of stars. It was a strange fancy, but one that didn’t immediately fade and for the first time I wasn’t just Remy’s Shadow, or the trainee Sensitive of the People – there was a part of me that wanted to be Bethie-that-is-me, not even just Bethie-too.

Mother, of course, Sensed it immediately, but she waited until it fizzed and bubbled in my blood with something strange, anxious and exciting all bundled up into one, like the first day I had left Cougar Canyon to see the world beyond. Then, as we bounced along the track into Kerry Canyon, I had been at once thrilled and terrified, and it was that feeling of being on a cusp that I felt now constantly pushing at my nearly adult self as if my skin was too small contain everything I wanted. I could not distract myself with Sensing metals or trying the obscure Design’s and Persuasions that Sensitives could use though I tried, because my mind was saying my family, my People were here, all I knew and loved, and my heart was sending me other messages entirely. In a strange way I now knew what Remy had felt with his abiding passion for the stars and burning obsession to get to space. I suppose the fact that Shadow, quiet, silent, listening and following Shadow growing up and wanting a life of my own was more of a shock to myself than to everyone else.

Eventually Mother sat me down at the kitchen table, a fresh batch of her home-baked cookies between us as I picked and twisted the brightly colour leaf I had snagged from the grip of the wind above Old Baldy that morning absently in my hand. I had lifted my way around the whole area and the Chimney's in the silent months until I knew them literally inside and out. “Bethie,” she said looking directly at me with those clear eyes of hers which always seemed to see everything Remy and I did. “Are you missing Remy?”

That was easy enough to answer. Remy’s training now in his own development of devices had taken him away, and we had all exchanged knowing looks at increasingly glowing reports of how ‘He and Dita’ had done this, and “Dita had an amazing idea.” I fully intended to get all the details from him and indulge in some well-earned sibling teasing the next time I saw him. “Yes.” I sighed toying with the crumbly texture of the cookie and the parchment crinkle of the leaf on after another. “I don’t know mother, things just feel strange. Everything has changed.”

“And yet not enough has changed has it?” She said astutely and oh, it was like a rush of relief to have someone put words to a feeling I had been unable to pin down!

“Yes, that is exactly it!” I cried out with surprise at the proverbial nail being struck so firmly on the head. “I love my training as a Sensitive, and I want to do that but I want something new as well. Not just learn the old knowledge, but find something that is not just the People.”

Mother chuckled. “Your uncle Peter is very proud of our Earth blood. If you hear him at Gatherings, he says we are the future of the People. Your brother is just as bad now.”

“I know and I believe him. I just feel...” and the fear was there welling up even as I took the plunge. “I feel there is more than Cougar Canyon. We are staying, this is our Home now, not ‘New Home’, ‘Second Home’ which makes it into something second best, but Our Home by choice now not just by necessity.” The words tumbled out passionately and with a vigour that surprised us both. “And you don’t lock yourself in a tiny corner of a wondrous house and never set foot past the nearest door.”

“To everything there is a season,” Mother murmured. “It would seem my dearest one, this your time to find your purpose under heaven.”

We did not need to speak, because we both knew it was true, and the both of us could feel the truth in her words. Sometimes talking with Mother is done through our silences rather than words. I’ve noticed that we ‘talk’ more like this the more skilled I become at Sensing. Father becomes irritated at our comfortable quietness and it occurred to me that I would not have that implicit understanding Outside.

“Oh mother,” I said in a small voice. “How can I be Outside?” We all knew how much she had suffered Outside in her own home before she and Uncle Peter had found their way to the People.

“You are strong, you are trained,” she said taking my hand. The cookies lay between us redolent with the warmth and comforting scents of home, and a reminder of everything I had just announced I might leave behind. “My beautiful Bethie, i knew it would just take time for you to step away from being your brothers Shadow. You will do more than survive out there, you will thrive, I am sure of it.”

I could feel her solid golden sweet warmth of emotion envelop me with her sureness and that gave me courage. I could do this, I would do this. “Thank you Mother.”

“Have you thought what you might do?” Mother asked smiling at me. “A teacher?” 

I smiled a little in return. I had given the matter some thought. “I shall leave that to Melodye and the others. I am going to be the Healer of the People in time, like you mother. I thought perhaps I would see if I could study medicine here. Perhaps I can find ways how to help Dr Curtis that he can feed ideas back to other doctors that are not terrifying or so outlandish they are immediately ignored– I have been going to help at his hospital for years now with you and on my own. Or perhaps even we can find out how things work with us, those People who are of the Earth!” 

Possibilities bubbled up again, fresh, new, exciting. I could change the world, I could help people in ways that no-one had thought of before! That was my passion. 

“Then we will talk to the Old Ones. You should see Valancy, she has the most experience of being Outside,” Mother said practically. “And we will speak to Dr Curtis about what might be the best way for you to accomplish what you need to do.” 

I would like to say it was as simple as that, but nothing ever is, not even when you are sure of what you want. My meeting with Valancy had been at once terrifying and had crystalised my resolve into something adamantine. It seemed like there were constant meetings and discussions, and people asking me why I wanted to go away, if I wanted to learn more healing why had I not gone to the New Home and why wasn’t I just going to work with Dr Curtis who was safe and known to The People. 

I couldn’t really answer any of the questions easily. Training to be a doctor was something I was sure I had to do for all Earth medicine is far behind that of the People. But if I wanted to help, I needed to be a professional, needed to be someone recognised as an expert by the world at large. It would give me a freedom to practice my skills and a credibility to initiate change. Mother was a Sensitive for the People, so it was not necessary to be medically trained to do that work, but I wanted to be a Sensitive to Our Home and that meant finding the ways and means to integrate the two pathways. 

Going Outside, going to University to study medicine was by far a more terrifying and yet more exciting than I could ever have imagined. Dr Curtis helped to arrange a scholarship and strangely some of my metal sensing findings and proceeds helped a great deal towards funding my education. I was committing myself to nearly a decade of study, but as I reminded myself and others, I would be learning directly, in contact with unusual patients and conditions that I would never Sense in Cougar Canyon.I had to remind myself of that when I actually ventured out there. Certainly, being plunged into an University environment filled with the maelstrom of young bright minds, angst and hormone filled, new loves blooming like Fourth of July fireworks and every emotion battering my shields nearly sent me overwhelmed and crying home in the first week. 

I didn’t though, though I’m sure Mother and Father knew the aching hurt that trembled in my voice whenever I managed to speak to them. I know I wrote letters to Remy saying how much I missed Cougar Canyon, and him, Mother, Father, everyone as my shields and Channelling were battered by the homesickness of everyone around me. But as the saying goes, “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,” and out of necessity began to learn. Learned how to hold a shield in the middle of a dorm screaming match, how to deal with the crisis’s of the heart and weeping room mates and stress seeping in from all angles as exams and deadlines approached. Learned more about emotions and people than medicine and finding myself up to the challenge. I excelled in my classes, for all the fact I still sought the shadows when given the opportunity, but the most valuable thing I learned was control of myself and the beauty and darkness of the human mind and soul. There is nothing so pure, so heart stoppingly beautiful as the grace and faith of the human spirit in the darkest of times, and they without the knowledge and surety The People have of the closeness of the Presence to us all. But the real changes occurred when I started my rotations in the wards of the Teaching Hospital near to the University. That was when I felt I was being really useful and when things started to alter beyond recognition. My apprenticeship with Mother and helping with Dr Curtis had made my Channelling robust enough to deal with the onslaught of being surrounded by patients pain, and I very rapidly developed a level of Sensitivity to my Concern that I could control consciously. It made me relish the help that I could give to others, even if sometimes it put me on the wrong side of some of the older, and slightly misogynistic doctors in the hospital. Every time we swapped around I jumped at the chance to experience something new. 

““Changing day,” Sam said as he leaned over my shoulder to look at the board in the busy corridor where our new placements had been tacked up.. The shifts were in the middle of change over and we had come in early to find out our new assigned rotation. “Sheesh, I *still* haven’t got surgical! Obstetrics? Really?” 

““You’ll love it,” I replied smiling slightly. “Besides they don’t give surgical to pre-med, never have, never will. You’ll have to make it through interns, get selected Sam.” 

““And here I was thinking they’d spot my natural genius,” he complained and we all knew he joking. Only I Sensed the core of steel determination in his joking because Sam really did want it for all his flippant manner. I hoped Sam did make a surgeon one day, he was going to be very good at it with his unflappable decisive surety in his nature. “So what have you lot got?” 

““Opthamalogy,” Chris said in his usual monotone. Of our intake, I was sure Chris was going to end up as a researcher. He was genuinely uncomfortable around people and for the life of me it perplexed me why he was studying to be a doctor. “Could be interesting?” 

As the others agreed I stared at the list looking for my own name, Elizabeth Jackson, and the assignment next to it. Psychiatric. They very rarely sent pre-med to psychiatric until a final rotation. Which either meant there was something that meant they needed an extra pair of hands up there – very likely – or they wanted to scare me off. Also very likely. I was still very much in the minority as a female doctor in this group or any group. The People made no distinction between the sexes talents, finding the lingering gender stereotypes of Earth perplexing and a little disappointing. But it was the reality of the world at this time and that’s what I had to deal with. Older doctors convinced that blood and guts would have me fainting like a shrinking violet or I would descend into a quivering wreck at a sudden life or death decision. They weren't to know that I had been making those decisions since I was a teenager. 

“So what did you get Beth?” Jeremy asked. “I’ve got an ER rotation.” He grinned at me boyishly. “You going to join me at the grass roots of medicine?” 

“I got psychiatric.” I announced a little glumly because everyone knew what that meant. Sam gave a low whistle and shook his head. 

“Wow, Beth, you must have really upset old Fullerton to get that this early on,” he said and I suppressed a wince at the wave of pity that swept around the group. 

“It will be a challenge,” I answered determined to make the best of it. Who better to deal with it than me with my training and abilities? Mother wouldn’t run from it, fearless in the face of need and I would not either. “I better get up there. Meet you after shift?” 

The others nodded. “Good luck Beth!” Jeremy answered winking at me as we started to disperse. He flirted with a half serious interest with everyone so I didn’t take it personally. He was attractive but I felt no urge to get involved when I had enough on my plate. I was too busy fighting the system to get involved in relationships. 

The psych ward was, by its very nature isolated from the rest of the hospital, tucked away in a forgotten corner. The light seemed more oppressive and darkness pooled in shadows in the long corridors. In the normal run throughs of the hospital, the place bustled with light and busy people. Not so here. It was like life was chained and muzzled behind the securely locked doors. 

As I neared it, the swirling chaos of minds in pain and mental anguish practically hit me like a physical blow. It had me gasping for breath as I built my mental shields higher and thicker than ever until all I sensed was a muffled ache. How did Sorters like Valancy and Karen deal with going into tormented minds? Mother could do it too, and I had the Gift developing, I knew that. It was not something I felt completely comfortable with and I had to establish a mask of disciplined normality as I was admitted into the ward. It was more pleasant inside than I had expected. Someone had been making an effort to make surroundings calm and tranquil and I looked around to report to whoever was on duty. 

“One of the nurses noticed my approach, an older lady with short dark hair and a weary look to her eyes that belied her smile as she looked up. “Hi, can I help you?” 

“I’m a student, pre-med Elizabeth Jackson. “ I answered. “This is my rotation. I have to report to the attending?” 

“Ah, yes Dr Kieran Radner, he’s our resident.” She said. “I’m Nurse Joy. We’re short-handed up here but I didn’t think they’d send up a student.” 

“I was quite surprised to be sent here,” I answered cautious about unshielding in this atmosphere. It was dulled down, but I wasn’t sure enough I could contain it, not without practice. 

“Well, it’s great to have any help. We have a lot of very ill people here,” she said and glanced around. “Oh Dr Kieran, this is our extra pair of hands... Elizabeth ..” 

“Beth, “ I corrected as I turned to look at the doctor in charge. As I met his blue eyes, took in the tired smile of welcome on an admittedly attractive face something happened that I had heard the People talk about, and Earth humans too. Something I could never have predicted would happen when I woke up that morning and went through the daily motions of getting ready for work. 

I fell in love. 

Just like that, as I instinctively Sensed the newcomer, it was like my own energies cried out in recognition of something, someone they had been missing since the moment I had been brought from the Presence into the world. It was all I could do not to gasp or cry out with a shock of recognition for all I had never met the man before. And I could Sense an answering thrill of energy back from the man who smiled at me, with warm weary blue eyes, and welcoming expression drawn on a face stretched by stress and exhaustion. I didn’t really notice what Dr Kieran looked like but I knew I would recognise him anywhere because how he appear to my Sensing was undeniable and I was spun all around by this development. Falling in love had been an “eventually” plan, a maybe plan not a “get up have breakfast and then turn my life around” plan. 

“Welcome to Ward 101, Beth” Dr Radner said dryly. “Some wit thought it would be a good name for this area of the hospital. I’m Dr Radner, though I preferred to be called Dr Kieran.” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” I said shaking his hand and it was like a jolt moved between us. More disturbingly, I saw his eyes widening as if he had felt it too. “I’m not sure how I can help, but I’m willing to do whatever you need.” 

Something about the name prickled a sense of familiarity, but I was distracted by a flush of embarrassment at how flirtatious I had inadvertently sounded. It flustered me, and I felt a blush rising to my cheeks unbidden. 

“I’m sure you will be a great help,” he said and I could feel his sincerity, practically radiating from the man. “Right, let me show you the ward.” 

I then embarked on what was the most exhilarating, strange, difficult and wonderful period of my life. I was smitten, embarrassingly so, finding thoughts of Dr Kieran haunting my mind at the most inappropriate moments. I had never really understood why it was called attraction before until I felt the almost physical tug that existed between us making me want to hover closer and I had to school my thoughts from making me literally dance on air. What with that, and the challenge of sorting those who had a mental condition and those who were psychologically distressed from physical problems, I didn’t get down to examining why the name sounded familiar. I spent long shifts talking to the newly admitted suicide attempts, holding them in my Concern and Sensing them calling out for rescue by anyone. I did what I could, and I helped rekindle wonder in some, to ease the pain in others. I was able to help diagnose when a patient was not mentally unstable but suffering an infection in the brain and those who had issues with different roots and causes. It could have so easily been missed, but Dr Kieran seemed to have a second sense for these things and when I mention my thoughts tentatively, not wanting to upset him, he complimented me and said he had wondered something similar and that not many would spot it. I wondered aloud how he had potted it, and all the other obscure subtle issues many of our patients exhibited. “Experience,” he always said, but it seemed like more than that to me. 

We were very professional on the ward, but I guess you would have had to have been struck blind not to see the way I was behaving. I frequently embarrassed myself with my boldness with regard to Dr Kieran, but I couldn't seem to help myself from trying to get through to him. 

On a rare coffee break for Nurse Joy and myself, she looked at me and said, “You’re setting yourself up for a fall dear,” as we had a breather. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said knowing full well what she was referring to. For all our mutual attraction because Dr Kieran definitely felt it too, I could Sense that, there had been no move or acknowledgement. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand how he could ignore what we were both feeling. But somehow he was. 

“Dr Kieran is the loveliest, kindest and most dedicated doctor I have had the pleasure to work with, and I’ve worked with fair amount,” Joy answered. “But he doesn’t have relationships. He lives to work. I’ve never known a man so driven.” 

Driven. That was a good word for it. There was an element of compulsion and desperation to those long hours and dedication that I was starting to realise was not completely healthy. It worried me on his behalf. “Why? “ I asked as much to myself as to Nurse Joy. “Why doesn’t he do relationships?” 

“Well it’s not for lack of offers,” she answered with a chuckle. “He’s a very easy man to fall for. Good looking man, young, dedicated, smart and liable to go far. Rumour has it that he has a tragedy in his past, that has made him afraid to love. It’s a bit Mills and Boon isn’t it? But he does have that... quality. We wouldn’t be in this profession if we didn’t fall for the wounded birds would we?” 

“We?” I asked raising my eyebrows. 

“Oh sure honey, if I was twenty years younger, you wouldn’t stand a chance,” she said and winked at me. We dissolved into some very unprofessional giggles just as the object of our discussion came in the break room. 

“Glad to hear people enjoying themselves,” he said and maybe it was the suggestion Joy had made but I thought I could hear a hint of wistfulness in his tone and a thread of loneliness in what I could Sense with what I dared to unshield in the ward. 

“You should join us,” I said boldly. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh. That should be our mission Joy, make Dr Kieran laugh.” 

“I‘ve laughed!” he protested immediately. 

“When was that? Back in the 1970’s?” I said dryly and he couldn’t seem to help himself, he did actually laugh and no-one looked more shocked by that than he did. Well, there was nothing to do but strike while the iron was hot. “There we go, hypothesis proven, subject can laugh. We should conduct more experiments. How about we all go out after we come off shift?” 

It felt impossibly bold somehow even though I made it a generic invitation to include everyone to soften the threat of intimacy. No Shadow lurking in the background here, but me pretending to be more comfortable and secure than I actually was. 

He hesitated and I make sure to catch his gaze and hold it. “Please?” I said in a softer voice. “Just a drink so you can wind down.” 

“I..uh..” Dr Kieran hesitated and then appeared to be arguing his way into it with himself. “Okay, just for a drink. No harm in a drink.” 

“Great,” I said. And beamed with delight at Nurse Joy who just smiled and shook her head.. 

Drinks turned out to be a fantastic idea. Kieran turned out to have a dry wit underneath his professional exterior and it was as if he had given himself permission to have a little fun and it was something naughty and forbidden for him. The energy had that little crackle and snap of adrenalin that forced me to be the sociable one. That was irony, me being the one to Go Out. Remy laughed a lot when I told him and asked who had replaced his sister with some sort of science fiction clone. I actually think Father thought I was on drugs or something at one point as I was behaving so unlike the Bethie-too that he knew but this was how I planned on drawing him out. 

I wanted him as more than a work colleague. And I was sure I was in love with him, completely head over heels for him in that way that makes the lyrics of love songs incredibly personal and relevant, and the colours of the world bright and more exciting and wonderful. That was one advantage of being a Sensitive; feelings are something we are very in touch with every moment of the day. I have to admit though, my feelings blinded me to something. I was too swept up, and excited by the way he was responding little by little to actually sit down and use my mind to work through what it was I was missing. Love is blind after all. I could sense the reservation, the guilt lurking underneath his feelings all the time. The anxiety that sprang up suddenly if he was too happy, and the sudden withdrawing as if he had remembered something. I started to wonder and I desperately wanted to push and find out more, but you just didn’t do that, not without permission. That would be a violation too profound to contemplate so I had to do everything the Earth way.

Though others came out with us for drinks, gradually in our minds the regular trips out became a more of a date. I knew he anticipated it, looked forward to it and I took that as a promising sign. Adonay veeah, but it was as slow and painstaking an establishing a relationship as gaining the trust of one of our patients! I wanted the connection to be there so that when I came to the end of my rotation in the psych ward we would not lose touch and that he would use that as an excuse to retreat again. 

Three months into our subtle emotional dance, something happened that changed anything. We were in the bar that the hospital staff tended to frequent with a group of the others. Sam was...well being Sam over at the bar and Joy was chatting to Dr Baxter who she had declared that she had the ‘hots’ for. I would tease her when we were back at work. Kieran and I were sat in a corner talking, a little bit away from the crowded bar area. 

“Here we go, white wine spritzer,” Kieran said sitting down. “Sorry for the delay, I think there are a lot of people drowning their sorrows at having to go home for Thanksgiving. I had to battle my way back from the bar.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “I haven’t been home for ages.” Too long, it felt like a llifetime. Thanksgiving had become our own Gathering, a time for sharing of memories and a time to remember those Called in that year. “What are your plans for the holidays? Going back to your family?” 

He shook his head. “I have no living relatives,” he said with a shrug and a faint smile, and I tried not to focus too much on his lips. “I’ll probably head in to the hospital, join in the festivities there. I generally do.” 

“Oh Kieran,” I said automatically on the verge of asking him to come visit my family, before caution just held me back a little. “You could –“ 

“No, no Beth, don’t worry, I’m fine,” Kieran said. “Thanksgiving is for family.” He meant that, and somehow he didn’t want to be a burden. 

“Kieran, you never take time off,” I said remonstrating with him, determined not to let him waste the holiday. “You know, practically the entire hospital staff would have you at their Thanksgiving and count themselves lucky. Mind you, you might not be safe with all of them.” 

“I don’t think Nurse Peters would ever let me out again,” he answered with a mock shudder. “I haven’t recovered from being cornered in the pharmacy cupboard. She really rattled my pill bottles.” 

I giggled a little, a little annoyed that I couldn't seem to laugh in an attractive fashion like June from the hospital administration team. "I rescued you," I pointed out. "Bravely I thought. 

“Was it altruism?" He canted a keen look at me, taking a sip from his drink. 

"My motives are almost completely pure," I said with a smile looking up at him as I sipped the drink. "Almost." 

"Almost...?" He leaned in a little. "Do I get to hear more about it, or are you going to leave me hanging?" 

I decided to take a risk. "You know I like you Kieran. Like you a lot, but you seem to hover on the edge of taking things further. Am I wrong that you want to?" 

He was quiet for long enough to make me nervous. "I do. I'm not sure if you were interested." 

"If you knew how out of character it was for me to be so forward and outgoing," I answered looking at him directly. "You'd know I am very interested. But you are holding back. Joy says you don't do relationships and I have to admit I was beginning to wonder." 

He waved a hand from side to side slowly. "I, uh. That's true. I'm really bad at them." That was an earnestly truthful, and somehow endearingly uncertain statement. Somehow we had wandered into the serious discussion both of us had managed to avoid until now. 

"When was the last time you tried? Did something happen?" I asked. 

"No, I just. I don't connect with people well." He looked uncomfortable, but he was still talking. 

That was such a ridiculous statement that I actually laughed. "Kieran, you have the rapport of..." I was nearly inadvertently about to say a Sensitive, but halted myself "...of a saint. The way you deal with patients and people on the wards. And staff, everyone likes you." 

"That's not me, though!" He made a vague gesture with his own drink. "It's, I don't know. It's always awful. It doesn't work up." 

“Why? What’s happened before?” I asked him and his expression looked troubled. 

“It’s hard to explain,” he said awkwardly. “It’s something in my past, something about me. People don’t, they can’t deal with it.” 

“Kieran, you seen what I can deal with,” I said gently, my world narrowing down to just me and him. Joy was right, there did seem something wounded about him. “We see people at their worst, with shattered minds and souls, sometimes with emotional abuse and trauma that can scarcely be believed. I believe I can deal with whatever is in your past.” Immediately though, I started speculating on what the deep dark secret in his past could be. Guilt and this penance he seemed to be putting himself through could be a sign of what.. ? feeling responsible for something terrible. A death maybe? I couldn’t imagine it being something deliberate. Maybe an accidental death.. 

I could see Keiran wince slightly presumably at the prospect of whatever I might think about him. “I’m... I’m not who you think I am Bethie,” he said. “I would love nothing more than to see if we can be together. The moment I saw you I... Oh I should have kept things professional but you are...so... “ 

“That is probably a compliment,” I answered as he faltered. “I know you feel guilty about something in your past; you know I won’t tell anyone.” 

“You’ll think I’m crazy,” he said shaking his head again. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I’ve seen it happen before. Saw it happen to my Dad. He lost everything. My mother, his hope, his friends, everyone and in the end his sanity and his mind. The curse of the Radner’s you might call it.” He genuinely looked distressed. “I’m... different Bethie.” 

I couldn’t help it, I froze and then the memory that had twitched at me with familiarity fell into place and I started laughing. Laughing almost hysterically because I realised who Kieran was and why I recognised the name. 

“Don’t you understand?” Kieran obviously thought that I was mocking him or something. Nothing could be further from the truth. It was relief as much as anything. 

“Oh my dearest Kieran, I do, I really do,” I replied through the gasps of breath between laughter. All this effort, and concealment and dancing around had been unnecessary. Dr Kieran Radner was a Lost One, and I knew exactly who he had been and where he had come from. I took a chance – being in love was a chance in general – and spoke to him mind to mind. 

_~I understand Kieran because I am one of the People too. ~_ I said, projecting my feelings of love and welcome. _~I know about different. But my love, different is not something to be ashamed of!~_

His expression was a picture. Emotions swinging from happiness to amazement and then plummeting to despair. _~Then you must know...you must know, why I cannot be with you most of all~_ he replied and got up suddenly, looking almost like he was going to become overwhelmed with emotion. We were gathering curious looks from the others and I reached out to stop his flight away. 

“Come home with me for Thanksgiving, Kieran,” I said taking his hand and said in a low voice. “Come home to the People. Find your forgiveness, and allow yourself to be happy.” 

“I don’t think I can. They could not stop it happening to my Grandfather, and then to my father, and now me,” he said in an intense whisper. “That is why we had to leave. He couldn’t stay, knowing what might happen.” 

“Come Home Kieran, let them try. We have a So – specialist now who might be able to help,” I said leaning forward. “Please. You must wonder.” 

“Always,” he said with a near gasp. His emotions were confused, scared, hopeful, desperate, resigned all at the same time. I held him in my Concern, letting it calm and gentle him and feeling a corresponding energy reach tentatively back to me. Eventually though he nodded and I nearly cheered. 

It was time to bring the Radner’s back to the People, and if I had my way, keep them close forever. 

Actually getting Kieran to Cougar Canyon proved a little more difficult, because at least once a day in the intervening week before we left, I had to persuade him that not only would he not be rejected, but that no, it wasn’t for the best that he stayed in his self imposed isolation and penance for something he hadn’t done. Now I knew the problem, everything he did, his work , his isolation, his reluctance to embrace happiness was completely clear. The fact that he was also a Sensitive in his Gifts made his self-destructive trait all the more apparent. He had chosen perhaps the most difficult, painful route for a Sensitive to follow, one that meant it would only be a matter of time before his own mind would cave. I was overjoyed not only that he was one of the People but one of my Gift. There were so few Sensitives, and Kieran was very well disciplined and knowledgeable about Earth medicine, and I was more educated in the healing ways of the People which brought a definite sparkle of joy to him whenever I taught him something. I admit to using that as a distracting technique sometimes when I sense his apprehensions ebbing and flowing. 

I counted it as a minor miracle I got him into the car, and on the journey back through the wintery landscape to the cold brisk November vistas of Arizona desert I tried to bolster him as his anxiety grew. The road was dreadful up to the Canyon and I distracted Kieran again by getting him to Lift the car to save the suspension. He smiled the whole time, again as if was doing something forbidden. I was reminded a lot of the stories Uncle Peter would tell us, the Memories of how they grew up sneaking uses of the Power and fearful of whether they would face rejection for their different origins. I guessed it was something I could say was okay until I was blue in the face, but Kieran would have to experience it to believe it. 

Homecoming was generally a wonderful experience. Everytime I returned, I felt as if the area where I grew up was welcoming me back with open arms. This time it was even more so, because I found myself saying things like, “...And over there? That’s where Remy managed to do his first inanimate Lift. Oh, and look...there are still leaves up on Old Baldy. We could fly up there collect some. I used to do that all the time when I was young. The air up there is so fresh and clear and there are buzzards who will dance with you. Oh! See over there by the Chimneys? That’s where I Sensed a secret cave. I can show you if you want.” 

“I would like that,” Kieran replied looking around the area I called home with wonder. 

“Over there was where there ship from New Home landed and there is the Cayuse. We had this whole adventure up in the Cayuse Canyon when we were younger, my brother and I involving a rocket. I’ll show you everything!” Home, home, home my heart sang and I was smiling as we came to a halt and I got out of the car. 

“Shadow?” My brother’s voice had me turning and lifting myself unconsciously into his arms for a hug, rejoicing in that reconnection. “Look at you! You look different...” He looked at me a little suspiciously as if trying to identify the change in me as if it was as easy to quantify as a change in the way I was doing my hair. 

Behind me, I heard a slightly embarrassed clearing of a throat and saw Remy’s eye’s widen. “Bethie you brought an Outsider? The Old Ones...” 

“Remy, this is Dr Kieran Radner,” I said introducing them hurriedly. 

“Radner? That Radner? The Lost One?” Remy blurted out. “But weren’t they ones..” 

I gave him a look that quelled what he was saying with surprise as much as anything. 

Kieran looked embarrassed as I glanced at him and I reached to take his hand half-fearing he might try to leave. 

“Excuse my brother Kieran, he has no manners,” I said a little tartly. 

“It is nothing but the truth,” Kieran answered equably enough and then perceptibly straightened himself as others of the People came to see the new arrival, alerted by Remy’s unsubtle broadcast that there might be an Outsider in their midst. 

Mother and Father were there, and much to my relief Valancy and Jemmy as well as a lot of my friends. It was strange to come back to a welcome that turned to reserved caution. Everyone hung back just a little, and I could see Mother look from me to Kieran and her eyes welled up with tears that I knew were from her Sensing that hidden pain I had learned to deal with during our close association. Valancy immediately stepped forward looking deep into Kieran's eyes. He stood his ground, resigned it seemed to his fate. 

“Oh Kieran,” she said and I knew she was Sorting him. “We must talk. Immediately. Come with me.” 

That was it. Quiet and subdued and a long way from the strong confident man I knew and loved, Kieran followed Valancy into her home, leaving us standing in the middle of the street wondering if I would see him soon if at all. 

“Radner?” Father asked. “Shadow, how did you find him?” 

“Working at the Teaching Hospital, “ I said. “He is an incredibly talented and dedicated doctor.” 

“It is good that the Radner’s have been found,” he said with a nod as if it were a distant clinical happening that wouldn't really affect anyone. 

They had to know. “Kieran is more than just a friend to me Father,” I said boldly. It was a slight overstating of the truth but nothing more than what I wanted with all my heart. 

I saw my parents blanch a little. “Oh Bethie, no,” Father said . “They have never escaped the darkness in their line. We thought after William Radner left, he would never marry, never pass that on to his children.” 

“Well he did, and he has,” I said firmly. “But that doesn’t change my mind. Kieran is not his grandfather and he deserves not to live in the shadow of the horror in his grandfathers life.” 

“Still, to Remember those memories. To Remember being in the plane at Hiroshima. What would that do to a child?” Father said. 

“Turn him into the most compassionate, self sacrificing and wonderful man I have ever known,” I responded sharper than I had ever spoken to my Father in my life. But I would not hear my own family make assumptions about the man I loved. He deserved better from them, from the whole world. How many people would have his strength? 

“She loves him,” Mother said looking at me. “Bless you my Bethie, you have found your love.” 

“I have,” I said proud of that fact, but aware of the consequences. “If circumstances and Kieran’s own caution will allow him to love. It is me pushing him Father, and him trying to protect me. I brought him Home because he has been all alone and for fear of hurting his rescuer, refuses to take their hand when it is offered in rescue. If there is someone who can deal with that legacy, then it is Kieran.” All we needed was my hope that Valancy and the other Old Ones could help him to bear fruit and then maybe... just maybe... well, then there would be nothing to stop us from being together.” 

* * *

Bethie stopped her re-telling of the events leading up to where they were now, Gathered together. “I still hope that Kieran,” she murmured, though the moment described had been days ago and they had seen little of him since. He had been with the Sorter’s , one after another, allowing the Old Ones access to his mind and agreeing finally that he should attend and Share that canker that tormented him. 

“Thank you Bethie,” Valancy said. “Now, those of you with children, they should not stay. Kieran has agreed to Assemble the memories of his Grandfather, William Radner and what happened on that plane at Hiroshima. We thought we had helped him from the darkness but at the time, we had lost some of the Designs and Persuasions that were held by my line. It held for years, long enough for him to marry and settle down but eventually the guilt and responsibility eroded the barriers and...well.” 

“He was not a well man,” Kieran said. “Neither was my Father. Neither of them..ended their lives. I think that must be something inherent in all of us, but they both suffered what I would diagnose as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in an extreme form if I saw it in one of my own patients. I have specialised in this area as much in self defense as anything. They became self-destructive in behaviours and neither lived long lives, particularly after they realised that they had passed on the family ‘trait’.” 

“Now the children have left, will you Assemble that memory, his memory of that event?” Karen asked from the other side of the room as the adults sat in solemn attentiveness. “We believe it exerts pressure on you to be shared. That this is part of the reason for our shared memories – to instill in the consciousness of the People such a lesson that it should not be forgotten.” 

Kieran nodded slightly. “It is a sound premise at least that talking about it should help. However, when I have finished, you will understand why it is I believe I cannot be with the People most of all for all I want to stay.” Kieran said as he shifted in his seat, and Bethie took his hand for moral support. “My Grandfather left for a reason, and it broke his heart. We Remember and often that is a joyous thing, but it becomes a sword of Damocles – a curse that is passed on to your children. He could not forgive himself when his son started dreaming about what had happened. I hope your theory is correct and that once I share this with all of you, the compulsion will fade.” 

He cleared his throat, “This is... to follow on from Bethie, the memories of my Grandfather William Radner as he experienced, ‘a time for war...” 

* * *

The skies over North Field were always a spectacular colour. Burnished blues in the day time, a wonderful splash of multicolours at dawn or dusk. Right now they were gleaming with the glimmer of an opalescent pre-dawn starting to dim the clarity of the stars, promising fine weather for flying. Being whisked away to these islands from home had been a bit of a shock to the system, but I had no-one waiting for me back stateside. My foster parents, good people had died during the war. Not because of the war itself unless you consider the fact that there were few young men around to help them do jobs that they shouldn't have had to do a factor of the war. An accident but one that meant I had nothing holding me in one place, no tether any more which was perfect, apparently for a secret base.They wanted people who had no ties where they could and frankly the Airforce was ideal for me, even in this time of struggle and combat. I'd always felt a bit different and out of place in our home town, and now the people around me were my family and where I belonged. 

And today was the biggest most important day of our lives. The day of the mission. 

"Radner." Carleton nudged my wrist with the side of a coffee mug. "Oi, Will. You need this." 

"Thanks," I answered taking it. It seemed an incongruous thing to be doing as we waited for the all clear for a mission go. "We got a name for our bird yet? I hear Colonel Tibbetts has named his." I sipped it and it was as terrible as the mess coffee always was, bitter and burnt tasting. 

"Not yet. Might be okay to fly in an unnamed bird," Carleton sipped at his own mug of coffee. "We're just there to document, not to bomb." 

It was true enough. We got to be the civilian ride along transporter to preserve this attempt for posterity. Betting in the mess on whether Little Boy would actually work was ranging from it being a dud, to maybe being the equivalent of a couple of pumpkin bombs like the ones the boys had dropped a couple of weeks before and we had all practised with over and over and over. 

"Lewis is not going to be happy," I commented as the airfield lit up like a Christmas tree with floodlights. Not exactly stealth, but apparently we were going to be part of history, or ignominy and cameras needed light. 

"Lewis can name it after," Carleton shrugged, nudging me again. "You going to have a steady hand today?" 

I gave my best grin, as if I didn't have the sort of jitters that could turn me into a quivering wreck. There was something about this mission that filled me with forboding, as if we were walking blindfold into a rattlesnake pit. "Sure. No problem and just routine right?" 

"There is nothing routine about Tibbetts' plane," Carleton grinned. "Silver plated! Can you imagine that, when I heard that I thought they'd done her up in real silver like." 

"They've certainly got the red carpet out down there," I commented as the bustling around the newly christened Enola Gay increased. I checked my watch. "I guess it's time to go for pre-flight and find out which target we are going to visit." I shifted restlessly and downed the rest of my coffee. "Going to be a long round trip." 

Carleton was a neat freak, and reached out to take my mug from me once I was done. I knew it'd end up tidy as anything back in the mess. It was his way of controlling a world that would not be controlled. "Yep, let's go." 

We were an experienced crew so the pre-flight inside our unnamed B-52 was swift, nerves getting a little the better of us. The rhetoric had all been about this action being a game changer and it seemed ludicrous to think that would be the case. It was one bomb. One bomb that probably wouldn’t explode. There was a build up of anticipation, a sense of waiting that clouded over all of the smaller day to day anticipations that would have overtaken our crew on any other day. The signal to taxi barely registered to me, and I suspected the captain was no better. The strange presentiment of dread that had been flickering in and out of my mind came back with a vengeance. Captain Marquardt called out the orders and we fell into our usual patterns, checking the instrumentation, the course, the destination as we had practiced until the actions were reflex. 

Running the mission like it was pumpkin bombs, being in the moment and feeling it. There was work to be done, and we were going to document it. 

It was soothing in a way, the rumbling roar of the B-52 and overlaid over the top of it, the intensity of thoughts around me started to impinge on my mind. I wasn't stupid enough to let anyone know about that skill. My foster parents had enforced the need for secrecy, for not being different on one level, and then the airforce reinforced it as well in their own way. It had made me able to show a complete mask when someone's thoughts drifted and I couldn't help but hear them. Still, I couldn't help but listen in on our civilian. He was a scientist who had been involved in developing the payload of the Enola Gay and glimpses of his thoughts drifted through my mind, the stress of the situation making them loud enough to penetrate the normal background white noise of thoughts. 

_~ ..if the delivery system works. The payload should be fissionable, but inefficient~_ If, and thought, no, hopes, yearnings that it would fail, that it would fizzle out and not work the way his numbers told him it would. But it felt, knew, too, that he was wrong. 

It made me exceptionally curious as to what this bomb actually involved. The sense of the man when he thought about it was curious himself as if he hadn't seen it actually explode in this format. I wouldn't say anything until our course was set and plotted as I was navigating, but we'd been out to Iwo Jima before, and then we were assessing which of the targets we were going go after. I watched him check and double check his camera, pushing out Carleton's drifting ruminations about his girl Elsa which tended to get a little distracting after a while. 

_~Hope if explodes we will get out of the blast range. Not sure how big it might be. The tests were difficult to predict. Might be my last picture. ~_

Might be their last everything, because the silverplate treatment meant that their lead bomber was less protected than they were. I could push and see what he had seen but I was too afraid it might be noticed so I went for the polite conversation in so much as there could be such a thing over headsets. "Everything okay sir?" I asked glancing around as he checked the camera again. "It’ll be nearly six hours before we're there." 

"I'm nervous. Once in a lifetime opportunity," he said very clearly, cleanly, like he'd rehearsed saying it over and over. 

He probably had. "They did say we could be making history today," I said as agreeably as possible. "Could effect the outcome of the war. Do you think that's true sir?" 

"I do. This.... will be like nothing the world has ever seen. I believe this will end the war. No one will challenge us, after this." Or everyone would, and his fear was hot in my mind briefly. 

He was serious and the dread surged again. "Will the bomb work sir?" I ask more as a whisper in his head than out loud. 

He looked down at his camera again, thumbs useless, but clutching to the leather case. "Yes." 

That one syllable sent an icy shudder right through me even in the stifling heat of the plane interior. Somehow after that, neither of us felt like talking. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever have a casual conversation again because there was a Fear crawling out of the other man's mind that spread over the interior of the plane like a choking miasma setting off a cascade of fear-driven 'what-if' thoughts around me as I strove to drive it out with concentration. 

I needed to be in my head, and I needed to be in control, concentrating. Hysterically, the only man on the plane whose mind was calm was the man whose mind wasn't on the job, drifting daydreams about his girl's fingertips against his mouth, and I latched onto the repetitive comfort of that set of what-ifs. 

I focused on Carleton's thoughts virtually all the way to Iwo Jima where everyone became much more vigilant from there on in for enemy aircraft. Life and death could be a blink of an eye away and that sharpened the mind. We received the orders to head for Hiroshima and then it felt like we were on a slippery slope of inevitability. 

Someone had mapped this out, and we were part of some grand plan, tracking along to a carefully plotted course where if we did everything correctly, there would still be terrible consequences. A bomb like that, going off? Really going off, and our man on the inside wasn't coherent enough for me to draw much more than that. We kept to formation, and keeping our navigation on track absorbed my attention. 

Under thirty minutes out and we got confirmation they had removed the safety's on Little Boy and our civilian scientist readied his camera equipment as we stayed close. 08:09 and the bombing run began, like most other bombing runs we had done before. We had practiced and practised and it was al by the numbers and the Enola Gay was executing a perfect precision run. The camera man poised, ready to capture history, and we were at a distance that he was mostly sure we'd survive. I kept my focus on our captain, and on the concerns, quiet, of our flight engineer. 

The bomb was away and the Enola Gay was turning to get as far away as possible. 8.15 and the bomb struck and everything I thought I had been expecting was nothing compared to what happened in that instant. 

A blinding flash of light but that was nothing, it was in my head. I had been with people who had died before, and there had been something solemn and sweet in the final moment as if God or some Presence had called them home, the fear had dissolved away in that last instant. This, this was 70,000 or more souls crying out in a white hot instant of terror and the mental screams of tens of thousands of dead winking out and the wailing agony of the injured and dying. Most of all, something incomprehensible to me, as if I had heard an echo of that Calling, bouncing back into my mind in a concussion wave and it was a Shout that shook the very centre of my soul. 

A Shout that wept somehow for mistakes that were repeated and I could hear it over and over in my mind, tearing through every careful barrier I had erected until all I could see and experience were the brief flickering candle flames of lives guttering out beneath me, dragging me further into a maelstrom of desolation and complete darkness. 

Rational thought vanished, which was as well as if there had been the ability to function rationally, I would have leapt from that plane to obliterate the searing experience tearing my mind apart. Instinct kicked in as I shut down and a feeling of responsibility overwhelmed my mind like a tidal wave. I could have stopped this. I should have stopped this. Hadn't I managed to move part of the plane we were in when we were shot down earlier in the war with my mind? I could have moved the bomb, should have moved the bomb and made it not explode. Could have, should have and the echo of the horror resounded in the deepest parts of myself. Why? Why, why had I not used these powers, these strange abilities I horded secretly to stop this? 

I was responsible, it was my fault, my fault, my fault that they were burning and dying and the bright streams of their lives seared through my mind leaving indelible scars that I embraced as marks of my failure and shame. I could feel them, a torrent of souls gathered up and rushing through me, shedding their flesh and their lives, young and old to Return. And I...could not go with them for all my own self was tugged and battered by their passing. 

I think I folded in on myself unnoticed as we all sat stunned. They said it was a miracle that as the concussion wave hit the planes suffered little damage but I suspect my base instincts somehow protected us all with some sort of shield because despite everything, I had an instinct for survival. 

I think I did go mad though. I remember not wanting anyone to look at or see me so violently and with a force of a mortal despair behind it that somehow I...vanished. Vanished from their minds and their awareness so I would never be seen again, expunged from existence in the only way I could manage as I couldn't force myself to end my own life and compound my guilt further. And as we returned, before I fled into aimless wandering, all there was in my head over and over were thoughts of Lewis in the Enola Gay in an ever circling mantra as he witness the consequences of our actions; '

My God, what have we done?' 

* * *

Kieran finished his story, falling into silence, the effects of the Assembling of the memory clear on his face. Bethie had not let go of his hand the entire time and her expression mirrored the angish of his own at the racial memories. His silence made it clear he expected the rejection of those around him, and those gathered sat with very solemn expressions, trying to absorb the impact of that recollection. 

"Thank you Kieran," Valancy said in the silence. "That was something we all needed to hear and to share. It is not a burden for you alone to bear." 

"It's not?" It felt like it was. It was in his head and and had been since before he'd remembered the memory. It has started when he was young and continued as he could sense recollections of the dead and dying in his dreams and then in his waking thoughts. 

"It is something all of The People should bear," Valancy said. "And those of Earth too. We Remember while their memories fade. It has a purpose in finding it's way through you back to us." 

"We need to remember it," Bethie said looking at him, understanding and compassion there in her expression. 

"Trying to force it away, resulted in what happened to your grandfather and father," Valancy added. "I am sure of that." 

His father had had a slow crumbling breakdown, and he only heard stories of his own father, and none of them had thought to warn him or talk about it, or, or... He shook his head. "I don't know what good this did except to burden more people with this knowledge." 

"It allayed some of your own fears," Karen said from over the other side of the room. "Didn't it? You have not been rejected or turned away. Bethie has not let go of your hand the entire time." 

He squeezed her fingers, looking down at their joined hands before letting his gaze travel up to her face. "No, she didn't. I..." 

"He doesn't want to inflict this 'curse' on his children so he has refrained from relationships and falling in love," Bethie said steadily. "Would this happen now? After all the work you have all done?" 

"The memories cannot be eliminated without damage but they can be muted or softened. We can Still them carefully, and encourage the mind to push them back out of conscious thought." Valancy said with great certainty. 

"Oh yes!" Bethie lit up. "You did that for Lea didn't you?" 

Valancy and Karen nodded. "Temporarily, yes. A more permanent solution will require more delicate work and perhaps more of the Old Ones." 

"For me, or for my line?" It made him nervous, having hope dangled in front of his face like that. 

"For any who need it," Valancy assured him. "You do not need to fear the future of your sanity Kieran. The Presence would not wish for you to be tormented by events that were not your own experience, only to bear the lesson as witness for others. We thought we had helped your Grandfather, but we did not realise how deeply he felt the personal responsibility of being there. Now you can lay down that burden." 

"He was part of the bombing run. How could he not feel the responsibility?" He squeezed Bethie's hand again. "I. Thank you." 

"Then will you Kieran..?" Bethie asked him, hope in her eyes. "Will you take that chance with me?" 

He didn't answer her with words, but leaned in, tilting his head down to kiss her, a slow tentative brush of mouth against mouth in a solemn promise of a future and a coming Home together.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the line in "Shadow on the Moon", describing how one of the People had been on the planes involved in the bombing of Hiroshima and the impact of it.


End file.
